


Telethesia

by 00HD



Category: I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Empathy, Fist Fights, Gen, Ghosts, Magic, Mind Reading, Mugging, Pawn shops, Spirits, Spiritualism, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00HD/pseuds/00HD
Summary: Michael James Way was born September tenth, 1980. By all accounts, his birth was completely ordinary. In fact, were you to look at his birth alone, you would assume him to be one of the most ordinary children on earth. There was no full moon, no great cosmic event, no magical bolt of lightning crashing down from the heavens, it wasn't even raining. He was simply born, crying and screaming, just like every other baby. Unlike every other baby, however, Michael James Way was born with a look in his eye. A look his mother, Donna Way, would recognize as soon as she was conscious enough to understand and retain information. Mikey Way was no ordinary baby.
Kudos: 5





	Telethesia

Mikey Way was no idiot. Granted, at times he could be quite air-headed, but he was no fool. He knew walking down this road, at this time of night, on his own, was just asking for trouble. Shuffling along quickly, he tried not to gaze at the few stragglers still on their ways home. The streets were wet and empty, it had been vomiting raining moments before, completely drenching Mikey through his clothes. He shivered beneath his jacket. Slipping around a corner, he glanced up at the sky. It was almost 3am, a bad time for Mikey Way. Witching hour. 

A sudden jolt of pain shot through Mikey’s head; he rubbed at his temples, stumbling slightly. He fumbled with his shirt, reaching beneath his collar to grasp a silver chain, and connected to it, a small brown river stone wrapped in copper wire. He rubbed it between his hands. He just needed to get home.  
“Hey.” Suddenly, there was a body standing directly in front of Mikey, blocking his path. He stood slightly taller, a beanie pulled low over his brow bone, and two shockingly crystal clear blue eyes gleamed from below. A black scarf was pulled up over his chin, and ratty brown hair stuck out at odd angles. He stared at Mikey with wide, unmoving eyes, his face blank. Mikey jumped, skittering backward and dropping his necklace, letting it bounce against his chest.

“Oh- sorry,” Mikey muttered, returning his eyes to the ground, trying to skirt around him.

“You got a light?” his voice was surprisingly smooth, and with one swift movement his torso was in Mikey’s path again. 

“Uh, no I don’t sor-”

It was just a flash, a glint in the streetlamp, a movement so small he almost missed it. A gun rested at the man’s waist, pointed directly at Mikey; unwavering.  
The command was simple and clean, “Give me your wallet and whatever else you’ve got on you. Now.” 

Mikey froze, the colour draining from his face, his head really began to throb now. He glanced behind him. Shit, there wasn't anyone around. No getting out of this one.

“Hurry it up!” hissed the mugger. Slowly, with one hand raised in surrender, Mikey reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. The man snatched it out of his hand, stuffing it into his jacket. He gestured with the gun, which had moved from his hip to a more obvious position, pointing at Mikey’s turning stomach “Turn out your pockets” he growled “I don’t believe that’s all you have”

“I promise you that's all I've got on me,” Mikey said desperately, trying to fight off the ever-growing headache pounding against his skull. The man squinted at him conspiratorially.

“Turn out your fucking pockets,” he spat.

Mikey huffed in pained exasperation and as fast as he could began turning out all his pockets. He hadn’t been lying, he truly didn’t have anything else of value on him. He emptied out an old receipt, a few gum wrappers, his house keys, and 82 cents in change onto the ground. Silently, he thanked whatever god was watching that he had left his cell phone at home. The mugger glared at the pitiful pile of items at Mikey’s feet before looking Mikey, himself, up and down, his eyes still squinted in suspicion. Mikey began to sweat.

“Gimme that necklace” he said, gesturing the gun at Mikey’s chest. 

Oh fuck. Mikey tried to retain his cool.  
“Trust me dude, this thing isn't worth anything,” he said, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.

“That wasn’t a fucking request,” he snarled, “give it to me.”

Mikey felt like his head was going to explode. There was no way he wasn’t visually sweating like a goddamn cartoon character. All the colour had drained from his face, leaving him ghostly.

“Please, it's a family heirloom” he lied “I swear it’s worthless. It's just an old rock you couldn't sell this for-”

In a quick surge, the mugger brought the gun above his head and brought it crashing down against Mikey’s. He crumpled to the ground, his head making an unpleasant cracking sound against the sidewalk. Mikey wasn't quite unconscious, but the whole world spun before his eyes. His glasses had definitely fallen off. There was a tug at his neck.

“Wait, no, dont-” he groaned, trying desperately to reach up and stop this attack. The chain attacked the back of his neck as The mugger yanked the jewelry off.  
“Wait please I-” he tried to raise himself off the ground, only making it to his elbows before falling back down. His head was spinning, he could feel the welt forming against his scalp “I need that, please I’ll give you anything- wait, WAIT! COME BACK! Augh-”

A burst of pain cut Mikey off, but it seemed the few pleas he got out didn’t matter, for as quickly as the mugger appeared, he was gone. Vanishing into the city night.  
The repercussions began hitting Mikey almost immediately. He dragged himself up to his knees and clutched at his head. It had been so long since he went without his amulet, he had forgotten what it was like. It felt like his brain was being rolled in between ocean waves. He reached up to feel where the mugger hit him. 

“Ow! Fuck- Jesus Christ” it was incredibly sensitive, but no blood, thank god. Still, he knew he needed to be careful. Oh god, Gerard is gonna freak out when he hears about this. It's been long enough, maybe it's just a learning curve, maybe he could control it now, he attempted to reassure himself as he tried to get to his feet, leaning on a nearby building for support. 

Just focus. He tried to focus on the pain in his head, the roughness of the bricks under his hands, the smell of the rain on the pavement, and the- wait why was everything still so blurry?

“Oh fuck- my glasses,” he muttered, returning to the ground. The weak lamplight was not making anything easy tonight. Something near his foot jangled as he moved around.  
“Oh fuck my keys!” he stuffed them gratefully into his pocket as he continued his search for his glasses. That 82 cents would just have to be lost to the cold streets of Jersey. He squinted and felt around until he found them and shoved them back on the bridge of his nose. Being nearsighted was a fucking curse and- oh great. His glasses were cracked. He had hoped he would be able to keep this whole situation to himself, but Gerard would definitely notice if he brought his shitty backup glasses out. Those things were ugly as sin and he hated wearing them and everyone knew he would never put them on of his own free will. Whatever- he could bullshit an excuse later.

Stumbling forward, his feet taking him exactly where he needed to go, Mike began the walk home. It must have been closer to 4am now, the streets were truly empty, and Mikey was so thankful. The fewer people around the better. He walked on the very edge of the sidewalk, trying to stay as far away from the houses as he could.

As he walked, the world began to change around him. Behind every corner there seemed to be a shadow that dipped just out of sight the second he looked directly at it, whispers danced around his ears and waves of intense energy came bursting out of every house.

I can control this, Mikey thought, I can do this. I’m almost there, I’m gonna be okay. He began to walk quicker, his jaw set, his eyes squinted, the pain in his head expanding two fold. The adrenaline kept the cold from getting to him too much but he knew it would catch up sooner or later. He was almost home.

By the time he got to his building Mikey was shivering. He looked up at the apartment building… All those people… He paled. He couldn’t go in. He backed away from the apartment. The thought of his bed made him almost want to cry. He just wanted to lay down and forget this night happened. 

God, what the fuck am I gonna do? I guess Gerard still lives with Mom in the basement… I could go there but… Mikey knew Gerard would ask questions, and their mother wasn’t exactly one to miss things. She would notice. 

Oh for fuck’s sake. The pounding in his head and the chill in the air had finally gotten to him. Exhausted and overwhelmed, Mikey began the trek towards the old family home


End file.
